Happy Birthday, Cupcake
by mibel
Summary: Gibbs never liked celebrating his birthday...until now. A small one shot for my dear friend Zivacentric. Happy birthday, cupcake. :)


It began with a cup of coffee sitting on his desk after a meeting in MTAC. The small hand-drawn heart gave an indication of who put it there, but she went about her work as if nothing had happened. Shaking his head, he took a sip, loving the way it was just how he liked it.

After a trip to Abby's lab to review some new findings on a cold case, he came upstairs to find a slice of pecan pie from his favorite diner, along with a fork and napkin, right on top of his paperwork. He looked at McGee and DiNozzo, who quickly averted their gaze. He then settled on Ziva, who smirked, but didn't look up from the stack of paperwork she was currently going over. Shrugging, he took a seat and dug in.

It was late when he came back from Ducky's morgue and stopped dead in his tracks. This time, sitting on his desk was a bouquet of red roses and a balloon in the shape of a cupcake. It waved as the AC kicked on, its bright lettering catching the light just right. _Happy Birthday, Cupcake. _

McGee and DiNozzo were away from their desks, but Gibbs could see them hiding behind the stairs leading to MTAC, trying not to laugh. Gibbs walked slowly to his desk, the scent of the fresh cut flowers invading his senses. He plucked the card out of the holder and swiftly opened it. Raising one eyebrow, he shut off his computer, grabbed his gun, wallet and keys, locked his desk up, grabbed the flowers and headed towards the elevator, but not before looking over to where McGee and DiNozzo were still hiding out.

"Finish your reports, then go home." Before they could reply, Gibbs was in the elevator a small smile on his face.

He made it home in record time, the words on the card and the picture that was tucked in the envelope burned in his mind, surprised that he hadn't caused an accident given the many traffic laws he broke. But, he hadn't been able to help it; she was at home. _Their_ home, waiting for him, and according to the picture, wearing nothing but a very short, very see-through negligee, waiting to celebrate his birthday. The note had told him that since this was his first birthday as her husband, she, of course, had to make it special. Very special.

Making sure not to drop anything, he made his way into the house. The first thing that hit him was the delicious smell that came from the kitchen. He then noticed the kitchen table was set and the lights were dimmed, but what he didn't see was his bride. His Ziva. He was about to call out to her when a throat cleared. Gibbs looked up the stairway and his breath caught. She looked like an angel, in all white. Her hair was down with just a slight curl and a smile played on her lips.

"Happy Birthday, Jethro."

"Thought I said I didn't want to do anything special."

"Well, I thought I could possibly change your mind."

"You can do anything you want in that outfit."

"Did you like your flowers and your balloon?" Her eyes traveled to the vase he was still holding, the balloon softly hitting him in the back of the head.

"I have a reputation to protect."

"Well, those were from McGee and Tony. I just slipped the card in, but do not worry. I took the picture myself." A growl erupted from Gibbs despite her reassurance. The mere thought of anyone else seeing his wife in that position would mean trouble in the form of his fist.

A soft chuckle floated towards him as Ziva saw the flash of jealousy across Gibbs' face even from the top of the stairs.

"You know, dinner will not be ready for a while. You should put those flowers down, come upstairs and open your present. You might be surprised and actually want to celebrate your birthday next year." Turning, Ziva headed toward their bedroom.

Quickly, the vase was deposited on the table, his gun placed next to hers in the safe, and a trail of clothes marked his path as he walked up the stairs. Entering the bedroom, he was knocked breathless as his Ziva was lying on their bed, a smile on her face. As he looked at the Israeli beauty he called his wife, he thought of the words that Fornell whispered to him as he stood next to him on his wedding day.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs, you are one lucky bastard."

_Damn right._

Gibbs smiled as he walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

Maybe celebrating his birthday wasn't such a bad thing after all.


End file.
